


Skin That's Drawn to Look Like Yours

by TheHalfDrunkMonkey



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Artist Derek, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sheriff POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 08:34:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1143838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHalfDrunkMonkey/pseuds/TheHalfDrunkMonkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Picking up a hobby means Stiles will leave him alone. He just wants his kid to stop nagging him. Derek Hale was never part of that equation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skin That's Drawn to Look Like Yours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [havockers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/havockers/gifts).



> I did a thing.

It's at Stiles' insistence to "find a normal hobby" that he ends up signing his name on the little dotted line for the community center's art course. He's an okay artist not the best but certainly not the worst. He's seen Melissa try to draw thank you very much. He doesn't know exactly what to expect, he just knows that the course is offered on his one scheduled day off every week, and that it will get Stiles off his back.

 

The day of the first class is seemingly calm enough. He thinks it's a good sign. It's not overly crowded as he pulls into the parking lot but it's full enough that he has a bit of a walk. He doesn't mind it, just watches people go by as he head inside wearing civilian clothes. He's empty handed aside from the check he's supposed to give to the instructor for supplies. It's a woman probably a decade or so his senior with a wide smile on her soft face as she hands them all easel sketchbooks.

 

He lingers to watch people so the two free spots left are on either side of one Derek Hale. He's not surprised that the town folk are still so wary of him. He doesn't even trust Derek fully, he's seen the younger man do too much damage, intentional or not. In his own head he justifies leaving Stiles' safety to the man, as they run around saving the town, by the fact that Scott is around too. Still, he takes the spot to Derek's left and just rolls his eyes when the younger man very intentionally doesn't look at him.

 

Telling the man to relax only seems like it would make him more tense, so he sits in the hard plastic chair and focuses on the instructor. It's about the time she starts setting the ground rules that he figures out exactly what "Life Model" means. Well no wonder Derek's so tense then. He doesn't think anyone would be comfortable drawing a nude person while next to the Sheriff that had arrested them more than once. Well, hopefully Derek won't be any more inclined to tell Stiles than he is at this point. Neither of them would be able to live it down.

 

He lets the woman, Lucille, lull him into focusing on only his sketchbook as she talks about how sometimes, separate shapes can be easier to draw than a human being as a whole. Their model comes in wearing a robe and sits on the stool with a cloth draped around his waist. It is probably a good idea to ease them into this.  
  
He spends an hour and a half drawing the model in three different positions on three different pages of his book. Lucille just waders around and talks gently on how to change the shape of something to make it look more human. When she stops behind Derek she doesn’t say anything for a long time.

 

“Here for practice rather than lessons?”  
  
Derek only nods once stiffly and she moves on without any more questions. He ponders Derek Hale while he finishes out the lesson and drives home. He doesn’t say anything to Stiles about the classes other than it was interesting and Stiles doesn’t say anything about them even after he’s been around Derek so he assumes he’s safe.

 

The second week they draw the same man fully nude and the third week they draw a woman. It surprises him that he’s more comfortable drawing men than woman, yet at the same time it doesn’t. Claudia was still very firmly in his heart. He focuses on the woman’s arm and shoulder that day rather than drawing a full body. Lucille didn’t say anything about it, only traced gently over the paper to help him form lightly curled fingers.  
  
The fourth week it’s a different woman, older and softer around the middle and he feels a little less pressure. He draws her face and most of he body stopping halfway down her shins. He finds it somewhat funny that the only other man in the room is in such a hurry to leave after that he trips into both Derek and himself knocking their supplies to the floor in the process. He’s not going to judge people for who they like.  
  
He intended to take his things upstairs and change into something not covered in charcoal dust, but he’s got a basketball game tioved. He’s pretty sure he falls asleep on the couch halfway through the third quarter. He only wakes up when the couch next to him sinks down and paper scuffs against cloth lightly. Stiles is looking through his sketchbook with a thoughtful face.  
  
“These are really good.”  
“I do okay, you should see some of the people in that class though.”

 

Stiles doesn’t say anything for a few minutes just turns the page once and stares. He’s probably hit the full bodied woman from today. He doesn’t think Stiles would hold it against him, but than again these days his kid doesn’t exactly talk to him about feelings. So he sits up and looks over at the page filled with a large male torso that he didn’t draw.  
  
“It’s me?”

The thing is that he knows it’s Stiles. He’d seen the majority of those mole and freckles the day Stiles was born. Claudia had always joked that she could make up the stars in the night sky with the color dotting across their son’s back. He knows that Stiles fell out of a tree when he was 11 and had to get stitches on the left side of the small of his back. He recognizes the shaded line harsh against the skin of the neck drawn on the paper, matches the faint pink line barely hidden under the collar of Stiles’ shirt. The one Jackson had left on his son when he left him paralyzed on the floor while the station got shot up. The only things he doesn’t know are the four thick lines traced down over Stiles’ right shoulder blade and the star shaped scar just barely drawn on the page where his ribs start to curve around. He’s going to sit Stiles down and make him answer some questions later, but right now the biggest thing is that he didn’t draw this and the only possible sketchbook he could have grabbed unintentionally was Derek Hale’s. And that’s a problem.  
  
Stiles doesn’t seem to have the same train of thought because he turns the page again and there’s another picture this time of his face. Head thrown back laughing rudely with his mouth wide open. He doesn’t linger too long on that one only turns the page again and stops suddenly with a sharp inhale.  
  
“This isn’t your book is it?”  
“No.”  
“Did you steal it from him?”  
  
Stiles looks angry and it’s so unexpected. Shouldn’t Stiles be angry with Hale for drawing him without asking? Unless he did ask? He knows they’re close, Stiles trusts him fully even if Scott doesn’t. Stiles has never given him a straight answer when he’s asked and he wonders now if it’s because maybe Stiles is intimate with the werewolf. Should he have taken Stiles more seriously about the ‘talk’ they needed to have? He doesn’t get a real chance to contemplate it because Stiles snaps at him again voice thick with hurt.  
  
“Answer me! Did you take this?”  
“Not on purpose. We dropped out things we must have taken the wrong books.”  
  
Stiles’ face is all blotchy red and his cheeks are wet from tears. It’s enough that he’s almost afraid to look down at the page. When he does drag his eyes down the paper isn’t full of monotone black and grey, it’s drawn in colored pencil, stark and vibrant against the page. He knows some of them, can remember the some of the Hales just like he can remember that the black boy and little blonde girl that Stiles’ fingers are almost tracing over, are still listed officially as missing. Even when the face Stiles is making right now pretty much confirms they’re not missing just dead by something none of them would be able to explain. He’d known, back when he had to go to Scott for answers about them, and the alpha had been so tight lipped about it. But Stiles looks devastated at the picture, like it’s causing him actual physical pain.  
  
All he does is try to take the book from his son’s hands. Stiles snarls at him, the sound barely human, then lurches off the couch and up to his room, leaving him sitting there stunned. He’s too old for this. He sits quietly on the couch for a long time just trying to think. He can just barely hear Stiles’ sniffs through the thin walls and he doesn’t even know why he feels guilty. Eventually he can hear the window slide up and feet being set down on the floor gently. Stiles stops sniffing after that and he can’t bring himself to go up and yell at the werewolf in his son’s room. He check on Stiles later, finds him asleep, and more importantly alone, then he goes to bed himself.  
  
His sketchbook is sitting on the kitchen table when he goes down for coffee the next morning. There’s no note from Stiles or Derek so he decides to leave it be for now. He can’t resist pulling up behind Derek on the road out by the preserve and flashing his lights. Derek just pulls over and when he reaches the werewolf’s window it’s already rolled down with papers and a license held out for him.  
  
“Do you know why I pulled you over?”  
“Because you hate me and can’t legally murder me in America?”  
“Are you sleeping with my son?”  
  
Derek’s brows just furrow.  
  
“No.”

“But you want to?”  
  
He almost looks offended by the accusation. Again, too old for this shit.  
  
“He’s 17. It doesn’t matter if I want to or not. I’m not going to hurt Stiles by doing something we both know you’d be against.”  
“You’ve talked about it?”  
“It’s Stiles.”  
  
And the way Derek stresses it makes him want to laugh. Why the hell did he think Derek would be the one in control of that possible relationship again? He just shakes his head lightly and looks back down at Derek who’s still watching him warily.  
  
“Use the front door from now on. I’ll see you in class.”  
  
When he pulls out past Derek he sees the man’s head resting heavy against his steering wheel and he laughs. These kids are going to make him go completely grey before he hits 60. Fucking werewolves. At this point he can’t even be pissed off about the drawings. They’re tasteful and nothing that would get Derek in trouble for having if they weren’t of the sheriff’s own son. The conversation itself was pretty enlightening too, at the very least it told him why Stiles wouldn’t tell him. They’re still going to have a talk, Stiles and he, but for now he figures he’ll just call Chris up and see about getting some wolfsbane rounds so he can threaten Derek on Stiles’ birthday.  
  
He knows how this story is going to play out.

 


End file.
